Sometimes you can erase your life
Easy as tearing up old pages from a diary.
At first it might resist, but it eventually tears
Suddenly you’re free.
Hidden from yourself, once again
Easy as that and thrown away
Discarded into the bin.
You didn’t want anyone to see it.
To see you.
And now they won’t.
Later, you may think about those pages
Scenes from your life now lost
Thrown into the ******* trash
Like they didn’t matter.
You wonder what was on them
Were they really that bad?
Did you need to throw yourself away?
But you’re gone now, only vaguely remembered years past.
Why did you do that?
Why were you so afraid,
Why did you hate you so much
Why were those thick bundles of desperately blacked-out words
So wrong and so easy to throw out?
Taken out on trash day
Never to be seen again.
Maybe it was easy to throw away
But never easy to remember
Or forget.
Maybe it was hard to rip up
To tear your memories from your head
Took all your strength, your force, your everything.
But was it?
Shouldn’t it be harder to throw yourself away?
Something I wrote this morning
